


don't be afraid; we're going home

by lildouglas



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Big Bro Derek Morgan, Bottom Spencer Reid, Childish Reid, Clothes Stealing, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Spencer Reid, Dad Hotch, Dad Rossi, Family, Fluff, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kid Spencer Reid, Oblivious Spencer Reid, Reckless Reid, Reid centric, Sad Spencer Reid, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Spencer Reid Whump, Team as Family, Touch-Starved, give reid love pls, long chapters, reid needs a day off, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lildouglas/pseuds/lildouglas
Summary: Reid really needs to take a break. For a genius, he's pretty stupid. Showing up for work while sick once is a mistake (a really big mistake, if you're like Reid and you work with mama bear, overprotective profilers), but showing up for work again the day after you were sent home for being sick? That's a whole new level of stupid. Reid would know.Reid falls asleep in the shower... Cue pneumonia, making him a dead man walking.





	1. i wanna go home

Gently shutting the door to Rossi and Morgan’s hotel room after finding the two agents crashed in their beds, Hotch threw open his own door and shut it behind him. He dropped his stuff on the floor. “Did you already--” He stopped talking as he saw the bundle of sheets on Reid’s bed move around. Spencer’s head poked out from his sheets. Cursing silently, Hotch shifted through his bag. He set his shower supplies for the morning.

 

He sat over the covers of his bed and pulled out his phone. He shot Jessica a message to check to see if Jack had already gone to sleep. She was typing a reply when a loud  _ thump  _ caused Hotch to drop his phone on the sheets and look over at the commotion.

 

Spencer’s singular leg was propped up on the bed. His other leg had slid off with the rest of his body. His head was pressed against the ground. 

 

Hotch jumped out of his bed and lifted Spencer off the ground. Upon contact, Spencer’s eyes fluttered open. “Hotch?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes once he was sat down. He yawned, stretching his arms in the air, before blinking a few times. “What’s wrong?”

 

“You fell,” he stated. “Look down for a second.” In his sleepy state, Spencer glanced at his lap. “With your head.” He ducked down. Hotch felt for a bump. “You’re good. Try and not fall out this time.” 

 

“I won’t,” Spencer mumbled, laying down. Hotch stood up and walked over to Spencer’s belongings and pulled out his blanket. He placed it over him and tucked him in. “G’night, Hotch.” 

 

“Good night, Reid.” Hotch reaches for the bedside lamp to turn it off, but Spencer stops him. 

 

“Can we leave it on?” Spencer’s voice is quiet, shy. Hotch hasn’t heard his voice drop that low, become that shy, since a while ago. It reminded him of when Spencer first came to the BAU. He was so little back then. He still is, at least, that’s how it seems to the rest of them. 

 

Hotch leaves the lamp on. He settles back on his own bed and he picks up his phone. Jessica had replied to him. He got up to take the call out on the balcony, but a light whimper distracted him, once again, from his phone. 

 

Spencer had kicked his sheets off of him. His head was leaning off the edge again, and he twisted his body into a ball. His feet kicked out suddenly, and his toes were pointed. His face was a dark red, and his chapped lips were parted. His chest hitched quickly, trying to get a deep breath in but failing miserably each time. His sweats clung to his skin from his sweat. 

 

Hotch turned on the fan in their room, amping it up high. He stood out on the balcony, called Jack for a bit, but he hung up the phone once he peeked in their room and saw Spencer was awake. 

 

“Fall out again?” Hotch teased, shutting the door behind him. Spencer shook his head.

 

“It’s cold,” he mumbled. “Do you mind if I turn it off?”

 

Hotch blinked a few times. “You’re cold?” He was shaking. Hotch placed a hand to his forehead. His face had already been beet red, but a small blush had dusted his cheeks. 

 

“Hotch, what’re you--”

 

“You’re burning up,” Hotch answered simply. “Lay back down.” When Reid didn’t move, Hotch deepened his gaze. “Get some rest, Reid.” 

 

Spencer made his way back to his bed. He curled up in his sheets and fell asleep. Hotch, however, couldn’t have sleep come easy to him, like Spencer had. He lay on his back, but his mind can’t empty. He thinks about Reid, the youngest member of his team. The poor boy’s overworked himself again. 

 

It’d started since that morning. 

 

_ Reid hadn’t been late. Cutting it close, sure, but he wasn’t late. He showed up to work with wet frizzy hair and with his clothes clinging to his skin. The others had asked, but he couldn’t give them a good answer. It was stupid, really. How can you explain to your teammates that you fell asleep in the shower?  _

 

_ He would’ve slept through work, too. He only woke up when he covered the drain to his shower, the bath water building up until the point his face was engulfed and he started to drown. He woke up gagging.  _

 

His teammates are all profilers. They figured he was tired, maybe dozed in a little too late, so he didn’t have time to dry off. Understandable. What they didn’t figure was the water in his lungs. 

 

Spencer wakes up a few times in the night, and Hotch witnesses a great few of them. He shoots up in his bed, out of breath, clenching the blanket he brought from home tight in his fists. He coughs and in an attempt not to wake up his Unit Chief, he burrows his mouth deep into his blanketed fist. A couple times he runs to the bathroom, and Hotch tries to ignore the vomiting. 

 

In the morning, Hotch wakes up to the alarm set on his phone. He knocks on the bathroom door. There’s no reply. 

 

“Reid?” He called, knocking louder. Instantly, there’s a thump, followed by a loud clutter, and the doorknob twists. Reid’s toothpaste, shampoo, and conditioner lay on the floor. His hair was stuck in every direction. They stared at each other for a few seconds; Hotch, observing, could tell Reid had fallen asleep by the toilet. He kept his mouth shut to keep from embarrassing him. Reid pushed past him, leaving him to his shower. 

 

Hotch always had to be mindful of how he treated Reid. He was more vulnerable than the others, not that he’d ever say that in front of him. He’s not a child, but in some ways, Reid never had a proper upbringing, and it sometimes leaks through when he’s not careful to hide it. Times like when he’s sick and refuses to admit it. 

 

“A fever?” Morgan spits in the sink, washing his mouth out. Rossi has his go bag all packed up. “Nothing serious, though?”

 

“Nothing serious,” Hotch confirmed, “But I’d rather not take chances.” Hotch leaves them to finish getting their stuff ready. 

 

Morgan sits on his bed as he packs his bag. “Stuck with babysitting duty?” 

 

Morgan shakes his head. “Not like that,” he answers, zipping it up. “Reid doesn’t get sick often, you know. And if it gets bad, it’s not like he’d tell one of us.”

 

Rossi raised an eyebrow. “You’re speaking from experience.” 

 

Morgan slung his bag over his shoulder. He smiled wryly. “Experiences,” he corrected. “That kid  _ never  _ asks for help.” 

 

Morgan’s had to watch over him like this a couple times before, not always at Hotch’s request. It was no secret Reid was a bit reckless… But he didn’t have to be told to keep an eye on him. He already did. 

 

Usually, he’s okay. Sometimes Reid connects too much with the unsub, and it leaves him dangling. After Tobias, after Adam… Cases like that, he’s unstable. He’s a time bomb. This time is no different. He’s staggering all over the place, and Morgan can’t figure out why. 

 

Reid has been stumbling over his feet. He almost tripped trying to get into his chair at the round table. “We just got a new victim,” JJ informed them. 

 

“Emily, you’re with me,” Hotch said, getting up. “Reid, stay here and work on the geographical profile. Morgan.” He motioned over to him. 

 

The two left, leaving Rossi, Morgan, and Reid. JJ had left to speak with the victim’s family. Reid sipped at his coffee, making a face. He cringed, crinkling his nose. Rossi had looked up from his tablet to watch Reid gag at the taste. “Too bitter?”

 

Reid didn’t reply. He cracked the lid open and sent in his plastic spoon. After some surfing, he pulled out a soggy packet of sugar. He scowled. 

 

Morgan burst out laughing. “Reid, man, you gotta be out of it.” Rossi, frowning, watched Reid toss it in the trash. “You didn’t even open it.” Reid didn’t look nearly as amused as Morgan. 

 

He stood up from the table. “It’s not funny, Morgan,” he griped. “I’m gonna go make some coffee.” 

 

Morgan and Rossi nose dived into their work. They became so self absorbed they didn’t notice Reid had never came back. “Where’s Reid?” Hotch had returned from the crime scene, and he had Emily with him. 

 

Morgan looked around. “He went to get coffee,” Rossi replied. “A while ago.” 

 

One of the officers outside was laughing hysterically. Emily had asked him what was so funny, to which he replied, “Some FBI agent fell asleep while pouring his coffee.” 

 

_ Reid.  _

 

Hotch took off, the others following him, and he stopped abruptly at the collapsed figure in front of him. A girl was kneeled down at his side. “Are you okay? Sir?” 

 

Morgan stepped forward and kneeled down. He scooped Reid off the floor, and the boy genius started to stir awake. “M...Morgan?” he whispered. His hoarse voice struggled to speak. “Let me down.” 

 

Ignoring him, Morgan asked the girl, “Do you have anywhere I could lay him down?” 

 

“We have a first aid station here, actually,” she replied. “It’s right over there.” She pointed over to a small room, and Morgan smiled and gave her a thanks before walking off. 

 

Reid wriggled in his grip. “Morgan!” He squeaked, trying to roll out. 

 

“Relax, Pretty Boy,” Morgan sighed, shifting him up on his shoulder. 

 

Reid gave him a tiny kick and pushed himself off and on to the floor. People were staring. Reid staggered to get back on his feet. “I don’t need to lay down.” He started to storm off when Morgan grabbed his wrist. Without looking, Reid slapped his hand off of him. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.” 

 

Turning back around, Reid took a few steps before tripping. 

 

“That’s what I thought,” Morgan sighed, picking him up again. This time, Reid didn’t protest. He let Morgan carry him into the room the PD had set up for them. He dropped him gently into his chair. 

 

“We gotta go to the crime scene,” Reid said, but his eyes were closing. “We gotta…” 

 

Reid fell asleep. 

 

In a matter of hours, the case was done. Honestly, they probably didn’t even have to fly all the way out for it. The PD should’ve been able to handle it themselves, but that doesn’t matter at this point. They saved a boy today. 

 

Reid woke up when Morgan picked him up again. “I can walk,” he insisted. 

 

He raised an eyebrow. “So you won’t fall if I put you down?” 

 

Reid bit his lip. “No,” he said, and Morgan set him down. Reid made his way to the jet just fine, energized after his nap. “Told you,” he said, gagging into his fist. “I…” A coughing fit took over him and he fell down to the comfort of a couch. 

 

“Reid, when was the last time you slept?” Hotch asked, grabbing the attention of a few profilers. 

 

“Today,” he replied. “Thirty-seven minutes ago and twenty-six seconds.” He had only slept for an hour or so. Wasn’t good enough. 

 

“You know what I meant,” Hotch said. “Get some rest.” 

 

The jet took off a small bit later. Morgan was listening to his music, and Emily had fallen asleep over her paperwork. 

 

Rossi’s voice plucked some of them away from their nap or whatever they were doing. “Reid, that doesn’t  _ look  _ like sleeping.” 

 

Reid, with his face buried in a book, looked up. “I’m resting,” he corrected. “Reading relaxes me.” 

 

“ _ Reid-ing _ ,” Emily giggled. 

 

JJ rolled her eyes. “You so stole that,” she said, and Emily stuck her tongue out. 

 

“Still funny.” 

 

Rossi cringed. “No.” He shook his head. 

 

The conversation got Hotch to intervene. “Again, Reid, you knew what I meant,” he said, walking over to sit down by him. He snatched his book out of his hands. “Go to sleep.” 

 

Knowing better than to argue, Reid laid back on the couch. He coughed every so often, but he didn’t sleep. After a while, with a sigh, Hotch came back over. Opening Reid’s book, he settled. 

 

Without explanation, Hotch started reading his book aloud. Reid had settled easily, and his eyelids started to drop over his eyes. It didn’t take long for him to crash. After Hotch finished one of the longer poems, Reid fell right asleep. 

 

*** 

Emily leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. She blinked her crusty eyes as she shut her computer off. Wiping at her eyes, she stood up, pausing when she noticed Reid was gone. 

 

Morgan walked in, late, with a bag in his hands. He placed the bag of food on his desk, pausing at what was on his floor. “Is that… Mine?” 

 

Emily came over, partially for the food, but she also wanted to see what was under his desk. Sure enough, Reid was curled up underneath with Morgan’s jacket. 

 

“Ooh, finally,” Garcia said, popping up behind them. She fished through the bag to find her order, but she stopped when she saw Reid. She gasped, pulling out her phone, and took a quick picture. 

 

Morgan’s heart had melted. “Reid?” He poked him. 

 

Reid sat up, whamming his head on the desk in the process. Morgan helped him out from under. 

 

Reid, still on the ground with his legs crossed over one another, was drowning in the oversized coat. “M’ cold,” he mumbled weakly. 

 

“That’s it,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna take you home.” 

 

He swiped him off the ground. Reid reached for his bag at his desk, and as if on cue, Hotch appeared and grabbed it. He helped load the gear into Morgan’s car. 

 

Reid fell asleep in the car. His forehead was pressed against the window with his eyes squeezed shut. Morgan glanced at him and smiled to himself before returning his eyes to the road. He tried to avoid the potholes the best he could to keep him sleeping steadily, but a speed bump had to come up inevitably, and when it did, Spencer didn’t wake up. He was still asleep when Morgan hit the bump head on; Spencer slammed his head back into the window, still sleeping soundly. 

 

He stifled a laugh, concern aside, and pulled into his driveway. “We’re here,” Morgan announced, nudging him slightly. Reid stirred, yawning. 

 

“Morning, Morgan,” Reid greeted, blinking. He looked around to see that it was nighttime. “And goodnight!” Reid stumbled out of the car, picking up his bag. “See you tomorrow.” 

 

Reid shut the door, gave a final wave, then headed up his stairs. Morgan watched, waiting to make sure he gets in safely, as he does every single time he drops someone off, and he gasps when he sees Reid double over on the railing. He gets out of his car and scoops him up. “Let’s have a sleepover at my place tonight, okay?” he asked, leading him back in. Reid was too tired to care. 

 

Once they arrived at Morgan’s house, Reid got settled in on the couch. He was breathing heavily while searching for the remote. He grabbed the basket of movies and rifled through to find one to watch. Morgan poked out from his kitchen moments later with two cups of hot chocolate, some cough drops, and some medicine. Reid happily grabbed the hot chocolate, but just as his lips touched the lid of the drink, Morgan swatted at him. “Not yet.” Reid pouted, putting down the cup on the side table. Morgan pulled his first aid kit out and cleaned off his thermometer. “Open.” Reid stuck his tongue out reluctantly and Morgan slid it in. “You find a movie yet?” Reid picked up two movies and held them up. His thermometer beeped then, and Morgan took it out. “100.1? Jesus Christ, kid…” He pulled out some medicine and gave it to him. “Do you need some water?” Reid shook his head frantically. 

 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, sipping his hot chocolate. Morgan slid the disc in to  _ Zombieland  _ and he dimmed the lights. By the time he sat back down, Reid’s eyes were closed. His eyes would flutter open every so often, but they’d close afterwards after tiring himself out. He took a box of tissues out of the kit and blew his nose and tossed it into his waste bucket. 

 

Halfway through the movie, Reid’s shaking had become so apparent that Morgan finally noticed and got up to get a blanket. He covered him in the fuzzy blanket, and he grinned. “Thanks!” He cheered, snuggling in. 

 

“You could’ve just asked.” Morgan crossed his arms once he sat down back on the couch next to him. “You can always ask me for anything. You know that, right?” 

 

“Mhm.” Reid was still shaking. 

 

Morgan sighed. “Come here, then,” he said, patting the seat next to him. Reid moved then, leaving his empty cup on the table. He snuggled against Morgan, absorbing his warmth. He coughed into his fist. Morgan wordlessly passed over the cough drops. Reid took one in his mouth and closed his eyes. 

 

A loud choking distracted him from the movie. “Reid!” Morgan threw him in a heimlich maneuver. A cough drop flew out of his mouth and landed on the table. “Reid… We can finish the movie later.” Reid nodded weakly, falling over on the couch. His legs dangled off the edge of the couch. 

 

Morgan turned off the tv and shut the lights off, leaving a lamp on so Reid wouldn’t get scared. He stole one last glance at him before smiling to himself. “Sweet dreams, man,” he mumbled, shutting the door to his own. 

 

He woke up a few times during the night to the sound of vomiting. Every time he went out to check on him, his face was ducked into his basket. “It’s okay,” Morgan consoled, rubbing circles into his back. “You’re okay. Here, let’s get some medicine in you.” 

 

He returned with some water and some pills and held them out. “They’ll help your stomach,” he promised, and Reid took them. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Reid apologized, shivering. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Not sure what he was apologizing for, Morgan frowned. “You’re still shivering,” he stated. “You can sleep in my bed.” 

 

“No, no,” Reid mumbled. “I’ll be okay. You’ve done enough already.” 

 

“Come on,” Morgan insisted. He tucked Reid under his sheets, layering his comforter on top, and piling him in blankets. After he finally stopped shivering, Morgan finally relaxed. 

 

“I don’t wanna kick you out of your bed,” Reid said, watching Morgan get up to leave. He sat up in the bed, reaching for him. “Please.” 

 

Morgan settled in, then, and let the sick kid curl up next to him. “Tell anyone at work about this, and I’ll kill you,” Morgan said, snuggling up to him. Reid muttered something under his breath happily, and he fell asleep. 

  
  



	2. i'm not crying; i just have bad allergies

Spencer woke up to a freezing bed and a hot cup of coffee at the bedside. A shower was running in the background, from where Morgan had woken up long before him. He sat up, reaching for his coffee. He rolled out of the bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Cups were piled in the sink — Morgan had made a new one every so often, so Reid could wake up to a warm one. 

 

He smiled, before it was knocked off his face from a cough. He, gasping, fell into a chair. “Hey,” Morgan greeted, walking into the kitchen. He lifted a pan out of the cabinet. “How you feeling?” 

 

“Better,” Spencer lied. “Thanks.” 

 

Morgan shook his head and took the eggs out from the fridge. “You don’t have to keep saying that. It’s no trouble.” 

 

While the eggs cooked over the stove, Morgan cleaned off the thermometer and slid it his way. He walked off, still dripping wet from his shower, to get dressed for work. Reid glanced anxiously at his bedroom door, then got up and put the thermometer under the sink. Once he got the temperature he wanted, he turned off the water. 

 

Morgan walked back in and grabbed the thermometer out of his hands. “99.5?” Morgan hummed. “I was afraid I was going to have to bench you.” 

 

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed. “I would’ve liked to see you try.” 

 

Morgan smirked, rolling his eyes. He slid the omelet on a plate and dropped it in front of Spencer. “And I thought I was just another pretty face,” Spencer mused, placing a hand over his heart. Morgan flicked him lightly on the forehead. “Do all the girls get the ultimate pleasure of being cooked breakfast in the—Ow, okay, not nice.” He recovered quickly and picked up his fork. 

 

“Just eat,” Morgan groaned. “We’ve got to leave soon, anyways.” He pulled out the first aid kit and set it down. “I know you’re feeling better, but it wouldn’t hurt.” 

 

Spencer bit his lip. The medicine hadn’t really worked in the first place, but he took it anyways. After he finished his breakfast, he fished through his go-bag to find his extra pair of clothes. The only suitable clothing reeked of mildew, and he was hesitant to put it on. Morgan sensed this and dropped some clothes on the bed. “You have clothes in your locker, right?” Reid nodded. “Just wear these until then.” 

 

A rosy pink blush dusted his cheeks, and he waited for Morgan to leave. “Thanks,” he stuttered, slipping off his clothes once he turned around. He slipped on the sweatpants and a black tank top. Not wanting to be picky, Reid bit his lip; the tank top left him exposed at the sides. “Morgan?” Morgan turned around, and a huge grin broke out on his face. 

 

“Here,” he snickered, passing him a sweatshirt. Reid happily slid the navy blue sweatshirt. 

 

Morgan picked up his keys and slid them into his jacket pocket. Reid slid his bag over his shoulder and dropped it in the trunk. 

 

The rest of the ride was uneventful, aside from both their phones going off. Reid picked it up. “Urgent case, we’ll debrief on the jet,” is all Hotch said before hanging up. Morgan didn’t have to guess who it was. He repeated Hotch’s announcement, and Morgan cursed under his breath. 

 

By the time they got there, they were running a bit late compared to the others. Reid had to make a sprint to get his bag out of the locker room. He was the last one to climb up the stairs to the jet, and when he did, he was panting. 

 

“Better get settled,” JJ advised. “Gonna be a long flight.” 

 

Small town in Florida, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere, has been having a bad case of serial killers, as of lately. From the looks of it, a gnarly gang is residing there. 

 

Despite his best efforts, it’s really hard to hide your sickness from nosy profilers. He steers clear of Morgan, who is eyeing him like a falcon. It’s a little unnerving; although, Reid probably should be used to the coddling. This much, though, is way too much for him to handle. God, it’s driving him insane. 

 

He sits down, alone, on the other side of the jet to avoid Morgan’s gaze, only for him to be caught in Hotch’s line of sight. “Are you feeling any better?” Hotch asked, not at all in a whisper. Embarrassed, Reid recovers. 

 

“Yea, I feel fine,” he practically snarled, giving off the indicator that he’s really not. 

 

“Ah, because, that explains the teen angst,” Emily noted, peering over her chair. 

 

“Not a teenager,” Reid corrected, crossing his arms. 

 

“Then stop acting like one,” Rossi comments, making Reid throw his hands up. 

 

He opened his mouth to argue, but a sneeze cut him off. He sneezed rapid fire and earned a chorus of “bless you”s from his team. A tissue was passed his way and he tossed the snotty rag in the trash. “As I was saying--” This time, a coughing fit. He doubles over, clutching his stomach. He starts to cough up something, but the taste of vomit makes him panic so he swallows it down before it can surface. “Not… A kid,” he rasped, coughing lightly. 

 

“The medicine I gave you really isn’t working,” Morgan stated. “You should see a doctor once we land.” 

 

“No,” Reid insisted. His cover was blown, no point in senseless arguing now. “I know what it is.” 

 

Hotch eyed him carefully. “Pneumonia,” Hotch said finally. Reid narrowed his eyes. “You came in dripping wet the other day.” 

 

Profilers. What jerks. Always seeing through your stupidity. Darn them. 

 

“I’ll pick up some chloraseptic once we land,” Hotch noted. Reid started to argue, and Hotch glared. “You keep needlessly putting yourself in danger. Keep it up, and a reprimand is in order.” 

 

Emily made a “oh, he’s in trouble” face and turned around in her seat. Silence fell over the plane, but it wasn’t out of pity. He gets what he deserves. It was bound to happen sooner or later, anyways. 

 

“You lied to me,” Morgan said, breaking the silence. “I knew your fever couldn’t have faded overnight.” 

 

Reid shrugged. “You weren’t going to let me go to work,” he defended. 

 

Once they landed, they got set up in the tiny PD. An officer greeted them at the door. “Thank you so much for coming out here,” she said in a rush, leading the team in. “We just don’t have the resources, and any help is appreciated.”

 

Hotch and Reid stayed there, while the others went out to the crime scene and victim’s houses. “If you need anything, just ask,” she chirped, smiling. 

 

“Actually, there’s one thing,” Hotch said. “One of my agents is sick.” 

 

“Our nurse’s station is a basket,” she sighed. “We really don’t have much funding. Ah, Cheryl, could you go fetch it?” Cheryl, a young girl, returned shortly with the basket and handed it over. It didn’t have much at all. 

 

Hotch fished out some medicine, but there was nothing that could help Reid. Some minor fever medication was the best he could manage. “This’ll do for now.” He handed it over to a flushed Reid. “Don’t act all fussy about it. If you had stayed home…”

 

“Okay, I get it,” he grumbled, grabbing the pills. “Can we get started on the case now?”

***

 

The gang killings had them all working non-stop. By the time it was over, the team had gone almost a full day without eating. They were all crammed in the tiny PD, waiting for them to be officially released. 

 

“Is there any nearby hotels?” JJ asked, and the officer frowned. 

 

“No, not really. Unless you’re in for a drive…” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We have some sleeping bags, though, if you would like to stay here?”

 

Cheryl popped up. “You’re not going to make them sleep here?” she exclaimed, dropping her box down on a desk. “I know a place! A bit cramped, but it’ll work.” 

 

Cheryl sets them up in a log cabin. “My vacation home!” she announced. “Only two bedrooms, I’m afraid, but feel free to break into my blanket stash. If you have any questions, just call.” And, on that note, she left them. 

 

Emily was the first to sink into the couch. “Ah, the people here are so nice,” she moaned, stretching in the seat. 

 

“Too nice,” Rossi said, sitting in a loveseat in front of the television. 

 

The team ordered a couple pizzas to the cabin. They all were seated around the fireplace, but Reid was the only one up close. Emily had broken into the wine stash, with a promise to replace whatever she drank. “Reid, you want one?” she offered. Hotch answered for him. 

 

He kicked off his shoes in the doorway, arriving a bit later than the others. “No alcohol for you,” he said, setting the plastic bag down on the table. Reid didn’t move from the fireplace. Hotch dug out the medicine. Reid laughed in his face. 

 

“No thanks, Hotch,” he said, pushing it away. Hotch was unrelentless. “I’m not taking that.” He inched away from the chloraseptic. “It tastes, so, so bad. Don’t do this to me.” 

 

“It can’t be that bad,” Emily observed, eyeing the bottle. 

 

JJ made a face. “Once I gave Henry some, and he  _ cried,”  _ she said, and Hotch glared. She put a finger over her lips. “I mean, it tastes great. No need to worry.” 

 

“Seriously, Hotch,” Reid said, giving a nervous chuckle. “I feel better.” 

 

Hotch placed a hand to his forehead. Unamused, he fished out a small cup for him to take it. He poured it, and he handed it to him. Reid set it down. “Reid.” 

 

He shy-ed away from the intense eye contact he was initiating. “Reid, you’re going to drink this. That’s an order.” 

 

Reid grabbed it, stared at it, then he, no joke, poured it into the fire. 

 

“Oh, he didn’t,” Emily mused, snickering. 

 

“But he did,” Morgan said, earning a glare from Rossi. 

 

Hotch, meanwhile, did not break eye contact. He poured another cup, then reached to contain Reid. He took off instantly, bursting through the door, running away from his Unit Chief. “I’m just going for a walk,” he panted, already out of breath from standing up. Hotch raced after him. 

 

Rossi sipped his wine. “Should we go after them?”

 

There’s a yelp in the background. 

 

“Nah,” Morgan grinned, “Hotch’s got it handled.” 

 

Reid leaves a sloppy trail. He’s not very fast, but he’s got his adrenaline going for him right now. However, his lungs are filled with water, and it hurts everytime he breathes. He doesn’t get very far until he has to stop to puke. 

 

“I recently finished a triathlon,” Hotch said. “You think this’ll end well?” 

 

Reid started running, wiping the puke he had failed to swallow off his face, again. Hotch saw his pale neck through the trees, and he took off. He caught up to him in a matter of seconds, and he grabbed him by the collar. Reid yelped loudly, struggling in his grip. “Gotcha,” he cheered, still dangling him in the air. “Are you going to run if I set you down?” Reid shook his head. 

 

Hotch let go. Reid breathed in as deep as he could for a bit until he had somewhat caught his breath. He started to take off, but Hotch caught the signs early and grabbed his wrist. He threw him over his shoulder, holding him by his legs. “This is illegal,” Reid squeaked. “Put me down, Hotch!” 

 

Hotch had to lock the cabin door behind them to ensure he wouldn’t run. “Morgan, Rossi,” Hotch said, making a motion with his head. 

 

“Hah, Morgan, we’re buds, right?” 

 

…

 

“Morgan?”

 

“You  _ did  _ lie to me, you know.” 

 

Oh. 

 

This… This wasn’t going to end well. 

 

Reid wasn’t much of a fighter, that’s for sure. Even so, nothing was gonna stop him from protesting the disgusting tasting medicine. Morgan kept a steady pressure on his shoulders to keep him down while Rossi kept his arms in a tight lock behind the chair. 

 

Hotch poured the medicine again. “It’ll only taste bad for a second. Then you can wash it down,” Hotch reasoned. 

 

“With wine!” Emily cheered from the couch. 

 

“Emily, no,” JJ chuckled. 

 

“Emily, yes,” Reid called back, and Hotch deepened his glare. 

 

“If the wine makes you vomit up the medicine, you’ll have to take it again…” 

 

“Ah,” Reid said, scrunching his nose. He knew that. “Just a sip?”

 

“Not a chance,” Rossi gritted out. “Can we get this over with?” 

 

“If Reid would cooperate,” Morgan sighed. 

 

“Hey, I can be cooperative. Just because I don’t want to drink chloraseptic. Have you ever drank it before, Morgan?” 

 

“Have you?” a tired Rossi shot back. 

 

“No, but I know it’s bad,” Reid managed. 

 

Hotch pinched his temple. “You know, if you had drank it like ten minutes ago, we could all be asleep right now,” Morgan reasoned. 

 

“Okay, okay, fine. Give me it.” 

 

Reid’s shaking hands grip the cup. He opened his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to swallow it. “No, no. I can’t do it. I don’t need it, anyways.” 

 

“Yeah, you’re fine. We can worry about it later.” 

 

“Really?” Reid was ecstatic. 

 

“Yeah,” Hotch said, and Reid jumped on the couch next to Emily and JJ. Morgan raised an eyebrow, and Hotch leaned in. “On my signal.” 

 

They watched a movie in silence until JJ broke it. “I didn’t like the new Star Wars movie.” 

 

Stunned, Reid gaped with his mouth open. Hotch jumped, as did the others. Rossi and Morgan resumed their positions, but this time they were on the couch, so Rossi had to maneuver him on the floor. Hotch poured it down his throat, then clamped a hand over his mouth so Reid would swallow it. He did, and his entire face contorted. 

 

He stuck his tongue out and cringed. “Blegh,” he whined, reaching for something to get the taste out of his mouth. JJ moved Emily’s wine glass clear out of the way, and Hotch passed him a gatorade and a rice krispy bar. He made a small chirping sound and bit into it instantly. “Thanks!” he mumbled around it. 

 

“See? Not so bad,” Hotch said, earning a nudge from Reid. 

 

Reid, the bar loosely hanging out of his mouth, slumped on the couch. “Well, that didn’t take long,” Rossi said. 

 

“It’s about time we turn in, anyways,” JJ said, standing up. “Come on, Emily.” The drunken girl slung an arm around her. JJ practically carried her to the bedroom. They took the child’s room, sharing a bed. 

 

The only other room was a master’s bedroom with two beds. Morgan and Rossi took one, and Hotch and Reid were supposed to take the other, but… “I can sleep on the couch,” Reid insisted, rubbing his eyes. 

 

Rossi was already face down on the bed. Morgan sat up on the bed, watching the fussy Reid in the doorway. “I don’t really trust you by yourself,” Morgan said. Hotch stepped out of the room, and Reid ran to his comfort. “It’s not that bad.” 

 

“I hate being coddled,” Reid whined. 

 

“Act your age, and we wouldn’t have to,” Hotch spat, returning with a bag in his hands. 

 

Reid pouted. “Get some rest,” Morgan said, sliding into the covers. Reid sunk down into his own bed. “Oh, and Reid?”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Don’t ever lie to me again.” 

 

“...Yes, Mom.” 

 

…

 

“Oh, you really wanna go there?” An evil chuckle sounded. “I’ll show you Mama.” 

 

“No! Don’t call Garcia!” Reid begged, falling out of the bed. It was too late. Morgan had his cell phone pulled out. 

 

“Shh,” Hotch hushed, tapping Reid. “You don’t want to wake up Rossi, do you?” 

 

Flashbacks to what a tired Rossi is like. Nah. Not a good idea. 

 

Reid climbs under the covers. Hotch turns off the lights in the room, sending a shiver down Reid’s spine. He shrinks farther, still shaking. His hand turns the dial on the last lamp at their bedside, but Reid’s shaky voice stops him. “Uh, can you leave it on?” 

 

Hotch doesn’t have to ask why. He leaves it without question. 

 

The room is silent, aside from an occasional bed creak. Reid is curled up in a ball, his face poking out from the blanket. He’s back in Morgan’s sweats, not because he has to, but because they’re so much warmer than his own and it’s not because the material. They’re comforting in a way he has trouble describing. “Your medicine, cough drops, tissues, and bowl are in the bag if you need it.” Hotch stood up then, but Reid’s arm shot out from his huddle of blankets and grabbed his wrist.

 

“W-Wait,” he stammered. His sore throat was really obvious in the silent bedroom. “Please stay with me.” 

 

Hotch, expression unchanging, sat down. “M’ cold,” Reid said, arms out. “Please.” 

 

Hotch laid on his back, eyes closed from exhaustion. Reid curled up against his side. “You went through one hell of a mood swing,” Hotch noted, knowing he doesn’t dare pick a fight this late. He’s too tired. Plus, Reid would never risk waking Rossi. “One minute super distant and now, very clingy.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” Reid apologized. 

 

“No,” Hotch said, feeling Reid bury his face against the bed. “You can ask for things. It’s okay.” 

 

“Then…” Reid sat up. Hotch looked at him now, and he saw wet tears in his brown eyes. “Can I… have some pain medicine?” 

 

Hotch grabbed the ibuprofen off the table instantly and handed it over. “You’re okay, Reid,” he consoled, watching him swallow it down with a glass of water. “You’re okay.” 

 

Reid was crying softly still. He bit his lip, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from crying. His face was red, and he was out of breath from trying to keep it in. From shame and the fear, he really couldn’t let the others hear him. 

 

_ I wonder if it was the medicine,  _ Hotch thought.  _ That made him like this. He probably knew this would happen. No wonder he didn’t want it.  _

 

Quivering, a sob was ripped from him, and he couldn’t keep it in. In order to keep his pride, Hotch reached out and grabbed him. Reid buried his face into his chest. Without a doubt, Hotch knew his shirt was being soaked with tears and his snotty face. His shaking hands grabbed the back of Hotch’s sweatshirt and refused to let go. “I’m sorry,” Reid whispered, crying. He gasped, trying to get in more air. When he breathed, his crying was apparent, which made him start to suffocate himself. 

 

It was an endless loop. Breathing was already hard enough, but if he tried to breathe, Morgan could hear him. The pain and the shame made Reid sob, but he can’t cry because if he does, Rossi will wake up, and Rossi is always angry when he’s woken up from his sleep, and Rossi already hates him, so he can’t do that. He can’t be a bother. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

 

“Shh,” Hotch hushed him, picking him up. The kid is already buried in his chest, and he wraps his legs around him and lets himself be carried out. 

 

Hotch sits on the patio. He rocks Reid on the swinging chair, hoping it’d soothe him. However, the second they were out of the cabin, Reid started openly sobbing. 

 

It was pained sobbing, a cry that was held in for far too long. Reid was too used to crying alone, but that’s how it’s always been. Thunderstorms when he was a kid? He had to lock himself inside the bathroom for hours until it’d stop. His irrational fears would get the best of him. He’d cry and cry, but no tears would fall. He wouldn’t let himself cry. 

 

But, now, curled up on Hotch’s lap in his embrace, Reid cries. It’s quiet and desperate, a small wailing sound. He cried until his medicine kicked in. The whole time Hotch rocked him, petting his hair, telling him simple assurances. 

 

“I’m sorry--”

 

“You’re okay,” Hotch said, laughing dryly. “Why do you apologize?”

 

“For making you do this.”

 

“Reid.” Hotch’s foot doesn’t stop pushing against the floor. He still rocks him gently, but he lets Reid rise out of his hold, still sitting on him, and look him in the eye. “You think I have to do this?”

 

He tilted his head. “I’m your Unit Chief. This isn’t in my job description,” he explained. 

 

“No, I guess, it’s not,” Reid said, still looking confused. Ah, confusion, a look that never suited him too well. “It wasn’t in Gideon’s description either.” 

 

“No,” Hotch said fondly, knowing he doesn’t speak about Gideon often. “I’m doing this because I care.” Reid blinked a couple times. “You’re family to me. You and this team.” He keeps getting the same, confused look. “Did the medication kill your brain cells?” He thumped him on the forehead, and Reid giggled. His face lit up. “Are you feeling better?”

 

“Yea,” Reid mumbled. “Thank you.” 

 

His stomach gurgled suddenly. Hotch raised an eyebrow. “You hungry?” he teased. Reid nodded. “I can heat you up some soup.” 

 

“No, no. I’d feel bad stealing more of Cheryl’s soup,” he said, but Hotch wasn’t having it. 

 

“I bought it while I was out. Star Wars shaped, too. I know you probably prefer Star Trek, but they didn’t have Star Trek soup.” 

 

Reid smiled. “Thanks, Hotch,” he said, getting up. Hotch went to pick him up, but Reid shook his head. “I can walk.” 

 

Reid managed his way into the table in the kitchen. Hotch cooked up the food, but when he arrived at the table, Reid was slumped over. He nudged him lightly. “Eat a little bit, and then you can sleep. Okay?”

 

Reid nodded and took tiny bites of his soup. He wasn’t able to finish all of it before he started to feel nauseous. Hotch ate the parts he couldn’t. Reid faceplanted into the table, not wanting to get up again. “Reid?” he whispered. He was out again. 

 

“I can walk,” Reid said, but he didn’t get up. His eyes were shut. 

 

“I know,” Hotch said, picking him up anyways. “You don’t mind it nearly as much as you say you do.” 

 

Reid whined, hiding his face. “It’s just me, Reid,” Hotch said. “It’s okay.” 

 

“...”

 

Hotch creaked the door to the master bedroom and snuck in. He tucked Reid in gently, not saying anything when Reid grabs his thumb. Not his hand. He just grabs his thumb and holds on like his life depends on it. 

 

They sleep in the next morning. Rossi is the first one to wake up, but ironically, he couldn’t sleep that well anyways. They’re all light sleepers, so most woke up just from the two talking. Emily was the only one who didn’t, and that’s because she was passed out drunk. 

 

However, when the sunlight started to stream in through the windows, no one stirred. Morgan moved the curtains to bring in some more darkness, and they slept soundly. No sleep they got was as good as when they were with each other. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhHHHHHH this was a pain to write! but it felt so good once i got it going,,,, i've had to re-write this so many times, and I'm finally happy w it!! 
> 
> i hope u all enjoyed!!!! if u did, pls comment or kudos bc it means the world to me, and it makes my day, more like a week, or like, honestly, overtime i log in i see it, and it is v heartwarming...

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed!! ur support means everything!!!


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